


Commotio Cordis

by solarisboy



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: (more info in notes), Anal Sex, Arospec character, Choking, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Episode Tag: s02e08 Pyre, Face Slapping, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Pain Kink, Painplay, Praise Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarisboy/pseuds/solarisboy
Summary: His heart is pounding and the metal is cutting into his back and he should be fucking terrified. Heisfucking terrified, actually, because he knows full well how easy it would be for Amos to kill him.Except Amos is between Alex’s legs and it becomes apparent to them at the same time that Alex is achingly hard.
Relationships: Amos Burton/Alex Kamal
Comments: 23
Kudos: 60





	Commotio Cordis

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much just an excuse to write Alex with a pain kink, but I'm really in love with all the Expanse characters and their relationships so hopefully there might be some more coming for this fandom? Thank you to sappho_42 and GirlyPhantom for beta reading, I really appreciate it.

Amos says something about his family and Alex feels something deep in his chest flare up and shoves him, which is nothing compared to what would probably have happened if the situation was reversed. Before he can think, Amos grabs him by the collar and swings him around. He forces his back against the railing and suddenly he’s suspended over what would be a very nasty fall. Alex yells his name, eyes wide.

His heart is pounding and the metal is cutting into his back and he should be fucking terrified. He _is_ fucking terrified, actually, because he knows full well how easy it would be for Amos to kill him.

Except Amos is between Alex’s legs and it becomes apparent to them at the same time that Alex is achingly hard. He can feel his cock pressing against Amos’ thigh, and he squeezes his eyes closed. This shouldn’t be happening, this really shouldn’t…

Amos loosens his grip on his collar slightly, which makes Alex’s eyes fly open and his heart jump into his mouth. “You like it,” Amos murmurs, a little wonderingly.

“I…” Alex trails off. He feels like he should be apologizing but he’s strictly not in the wrong here. “Fuckin’ hell, not like this.” He still feels like he might be about two seconds away from splattering his head on the bottom of the stairwell, which is not doing much for his ability to focus. “Amos,” he says. “Let me go.”

Amos is regarding him with an impregnable stare. “Why?”

“ _Why_?” Alex repeats, sputtering, then says, “Amos,” again, the desperation clear in his voice.

Amos shifts so he’s holding Alex securely in one hand and moves a little closer, enough to make his leg push more firmly against Alex’s dick. Adrenaline is pumping through him, heightening the sensation. His breath hitches. “What’re you doing?”

Amos’s eyes cast down, brow furrowing. “You’ll see.”

“Let me go.”

He flexes his free hand. “I don’t feel like it.”

Alex stares at him, fear rising. And, one layer deeper than that, lust. Some fucked up part of his brain really desperately wants Amos to hurt him, and it troubles the hell out of him. He’s about to tell Amos to let him go again, hopefully with more determination this time, but before he can, Amos cuts in, “Let me try something.”

Alex furrows his brow. Amos hasn’t let go of him, he’s in the same precarious situation, and he can’t imagine what he’s planning on trying. Until his gaze drifts to Amos’ fist, and his stomach flips. He wants to tell him to go ahead, but he can’t actually get the words out. The only thing that comes out is a sort of strangled noise and a subtle nod.

Amos clocks him straight across the jaw. It’s a powerful punch, though probably not his full strength, and it makes Alex’s head snap back into the empty space. It’s a miracle that it wasn’t enough to push him over the edge of the railing, but he can taste blood in his mouth. He gasps in a breath. The pain spreads across his face, sharp at first before dissipating into a throbbing ache. Worse, he can feel his cock pulse with arousal. He knows Amos can feel it too, and the thought makes something swoop low in his stomach that’s bordering on nausea. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits. He’s reeling, but the fire in his words is false. 

Amos finally pulls him off and away, surprisingly gentle. He lets out a grunt and steps back. “For once,” he says, “I don’t think the problem lies with me.”

Alex flushes slowly, more from anger than embarrassment, but he can still feel shame bubbling under the surface. It’s not like he didn’t know that he was fucked up like this; the first time a hookup played rough and slapped his face, he whited out because his orgasm was so strong. It’s just that he absolutely hates it. Every time he indulges, he comes away feeling dirty and overwhelmed by self hatred and so fucking relieved that it scares him. It’s never happened when he was in actual mortal danger, though, not like it had just now, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Not like this?” Amos says. 

Alex blinks. “What?”

“Earlier. You said, ‘fucking hell, not like this’. So like what?”

There’s something beeping in the background, but neither of them move. “It was just the surprise, asshole,” Alex says. He can’t meet his eyes, but it’s not like that wasn’t a factor. 

Amos grunts a laugh. “I’m sure it was.”

Alex gives him a long look, then pushes past him to look at the screen that’s lit up. “I don’t owe you any kind of explanation,” he mutters. “Just don’t almost kill me next time, and we’ll be golden.”

Amos raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move any closer, but something about the way his body language shifts makes Alex feel boxed in. “Next time?” he says, grinning. “Well, I’ll be sure to surprise you then.”

He wants to snap back a retort about being provoked, but he ignores him to pay closer attention to the alert. It doesn’t take a genius to realize what’s going on. He calls Holden and tries to focus on the situation at hand.

Trying to stay cool in a crisis with a raging hard on is somehow even more difficult than he expected, but in the end it doesn’t matter. They charge in and suppress the uprising, and by the time he sees the damage and the wounded, it’s behind him.

Holden asks him about the bruise blooming on his jaw and the dried blood on his lip, and Alex panics for a few seconds before making something up about accidentally getting hit by something in Zero G while Amos was suiting up. Amos watches them out of the corner of his eye.

* * *

Alex prays that that will be the end of it, that they’ll move on as if nothing ever happened. He never gets what he wants.

The first time it happens, he’s walking through the ship’s hallway when Amos and Naomi come up behind him, talking softly. Amos shoves him into the wall with no pretense. Alex crashes into it hard, banging his head against the metal. Pain shoots through the place where Amos punched him before, and he lets out a groan.

Amos holds him against the wall, gaze burning into him. Alex can’t break eye contact, his hands pressing against the metal to support himself. Amos lets go with a light push and goes back to Naomi’s side, walking as if nothing had ever happened.

“Amos!” Naomi protests, grabbing his sleeve.

Amos pays a cursory glance back and says, “Sorry,” but it really sounds more like he’s saying it to Naomi than to him.

Alex pushes himself away from the wall. It’s a slightly unsteady motion; his head is pounding and his vision is swimming. Amos is watching him now, gaze analytical and a little predatory. Alex makes himself straighten up and lifts a hand to wave it off. “It’s fine,” he says before Naomi can ask, as warmly as he can manage. “Don’t worry about it.”

He meets Amos' eyes, trying to understand the challenge written there. He’s not, actually, looking for a repeat of yesterday, and he, unlike Amos, has something called self control. He’s not going to rise to the bait, especially not in front of Naomi. Besides, the only reason he’d pushed him before was because he’d brought up his family. Without the insult, he doesn’t have any reason to engage with him.

Naomi gives him an apologetic look, and starts walking again, taking Amos with her. He hears her whisper a question to Amos about what that was all about before they pass out of range.

Alex exhales slowly. His heart is pounding, which is to be expected after being thrown into fight or flight so abruptly, except… It’s not exactly the reaction he had yesterday, but there’s definitely something stirring deep in his gut. 

He can’t imagine any reason for him to do that besides trying to rehash the other day. Amos doesn’t hold grudges the way other people do, so it wouldn’t make sense to be residual anger. Besides, he hadn’t even really been angry when he’d punched him — Alex has seen Amos when he’s enraged, gotten a taste of it moments before, and that wasn’t it.

He retreats to his room instead of going to the bridge to run training exercises like he’d planned and collapses on his bed. He tries to forget about it, but the warm, almost-arousal only grows. He ends up jerking himself off and trying very hard not to think about Amos, but he only manages to come when he presses his fingers against the bruise on his jaw.

* * *

The next time, they’re all gathered on the flight deck. Everything’s in place for their trip to Ganymede, and they’re all there to make sure take off goes accordingly.

Alex is the last one on deck, and he jogs up the stairs to his seat. He exchanges a nod with Holden and a slight smile with Naomi. Amos spins at the last moment, his leg stretched out, and trips him.

He falls, his knees and palms slamming into the metal grating. He can feel blood trickling through his left pant leg, and his hands have raw scrapes on them. He hisses sharply, spits out an expletive, then slowly inhales to try to calm himself.

The main problem is that he can’t confront Amos. He knows he wouldn’t win that fight, and that Amos would eventually pull the real reason out of him. Publicly. In front of the crew. Alex would genuinely rather die. No one on the Roci was ever supposed to know about this, and he is determined to limit the damage to one.

He realizes with a jolt that Amos has been doing everything so far in front of someone else. Has his plan all along been to expose him? It’s not exactly an acceptable thing to be turned on by, but it’s not like it’s completely amoral. If Amos is feeling disgusted by it, he shouldn’t have been the one to push against Alex’s crotch and hit him when he could already predict the result. And from his understanding, Amos has his own history with sex which he avoids talking about. Alex simply can’t wrap his mind around his motivation.

He lifts his head and Amos is standing above him, offering him a hand. Alex hesitates. It would be a stupid decision for Amos to do anything else to him when he’s already pulled this in front of the crew, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t. Besides, his hand will sting like a bitch if he takes it.

But Amos is looking at him expectantly, and he doesn’t think there’s any hidden motive there. He takes a breath and his hand, and lets himself be hauled up. He clenches his jaw, but a wince escapes him anyway as their hands meet.

“I’m sorry,” Amos says, and his expression has some sort of genuine emotion. He’s meeting Alex’s eyes, too, which at least makes it feel real. “I didn’t mean to.”

Holden is glaring daggers at Amos, and Naomi is looking on in concern and confusion. “Are you okay?” she says.

“You should go down and get something for your hands,” Holden adds, tearing his gaze away from Amos. “We can wait a few minutes.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grits out. “I’ll take us out, and then I’ll go down and patch myself up. I don’t want to waste any time.”

As he sits down, he wonders if maybe Amos is conditioning him, because as soon as he touched his hand he felt half-hard and dazed.

* * *

They’re a couple days into the trip when it happens next. Alex’s jaw is still bruised, but his hands have healed enough that he doesn’t need gauze over them anymore. He hasn't tried to touch himself yet despite how much it’s been on his mind lately. He tells himself that it’s for the obvious reason of not wanting to aggravate the wound, but that’s not quite it.

He’s in the dining room when he senses Amos coming up from behind him. He puts down his sandwich. It’s late, enough that everyone else should have been asleep, but here they are. He braces, not sure exactly what to expect. It’s not like they haven’t had any normal interactions since, but they’ve mostly been centered on keeping the ship running.

Amos comes to a still behind him and pauses for a moment. Alex is about to open his mouth to ask what he wants, when Amos threads a hand through his hair and _pulls_. Alex chokes on air, a desperate sound caught in his throat. He can feel his pants getting tighter as blood flows south.

Alex doesn’t fully understand the game, but he can’t help but think this isn’t playing fair. Amos must know what kind of reaction this would draw out of him — it’s not that uncommon of a response, even among people who don’t happen to have a messed up brain which interprets pain the wrong way.

Amos twists his fist, and Alex’s hands scramble for purchase against the table. He’s breathing heavy, but he’s also starting to feel hazy in a pleasant sort of way. “Amos,” he manages, not sure if it’s a caution or a plea. 

Without warning, Amos makes a sharp motion to the side, dragging Alex off of the chair. He hits the ground hard, palms down, and he hisses a curse. Amos still has his hand wrapped in his hair, and he yanks him to the side, forcing Alex to fall back on his elbows.

He lets go and Alex lays there, panting. There’s a moment of near silence as Amos just watches him while he tries to catch his breath. “What are you _doing?_ ” he says, not that he’s expecting to get an answer this time.

Amos takes a step closer, and nudges at one of his legs with his foot. Alex lets his thighs fall open before he realizes what he’s doing. Arousal shocks through him. He clenches his jaw, trying to force back the rising sense of humiliation. Amos makes a sort of soft, satisfied sound in the back of his throat, then walks back down the corridor.

Alex stares after him, understanding even less than he did before. There was no one else here to witness it, and he seemed far closer to pleased than angry. “Fuck,” he murmurs.

He rubs his neck. Amos had wrenched it when pulling him off the chair, and the ache wasn’t the good kind. The thought occurs to him that anyone could walk in on him right now, laying on the floor with his legs spread and a throbbing erection. He groans and forces himself up, and considers trying to eat before acknowledging his appetite is dead and the only thing he can think about is getting himself off as quickly as possible. He cleans up and heads back to his room.

He tangles his hand in his hair as he slowly builds up speed. He feels like actually pulling his own hair would be admitting to giving in, but the touch alone is enough to remind him of Amos dragging him. The friction against his stinging palm makes him see stars. 

He thinks about how aggravating the wound is a bad idea, and the actual reason for his trepidation locks into place. He likes it far too much.

The shame after he finishes is almost overwhelming.

* * *

They’re alone on the bridge, and Amos has decided to push Alex against the wall and put his hand around his throat. The walls are sloped, so his head hits first. Alex’s own hand flies up to pull him away, but Amos isn’t applying pressure, so his hand ends up clawed onto Amos’ without actually trying to drag it away.

Amos squeezes, far gentler than Alex was expecting, and he feels a light headrush as his breath is stolen. His toes curl inside of his mag boots, and _fuck_ , this is turning him on. Amos tightens his grip, and Alex squirms, his fingers twitching uselessly against his hand. Alex’s breathing is strained, and Amos just keeps looking at him in silence, like he’s waiting for something.

Holden comes pounding up the steps, clearly intent on something else and not expecting to see them. At his entrance, Amos clamps down on his throat for a moment, brutal and unyielding, and Alex chokes, his vision going spotty. As soon as Holden takes in the situation, he barks, “Amos, what the hell are— let go of him!” and rushes over.

Amos drops his hand and Alex doubles over, gasping and coughing. He gulps air and tries not to think about how intensely Amos was looking at him.

“Alex, are you alright?” Holden says, and Alex manages a nod and a hoarse, “Fine.”

“What the hell were you doing?” Holden snaps, forcibly turning Amos towards him by the shoulder. He sees Amos’ arm tense up and for a moment he’s worried he’s going to have to hold him back from killing Holden while he’s still catching his breath, but a second later he relaxes. 

“Testing a theory,” Amos says. 

Alex looks up at him, fucking finally comprehending what’s been going on. Silence stretches on between them for far too long before he says, “You could’ve just asked.”

Amos’ mouth twitches, and then he turns and walks out. Holden is looking between them, expression drawn in consternation. “Are you actually alright?”

Alex nods, running a hand over his throat. “I don’t know what prompted that, but he didn’t really hurt me.”

Holden nods once and works his jaw for a moment. “Did he punch you?” he bursts out, voice tight. “A few days ago, when you got that bruise.”

Alex’s head snaps up and he looks at him in alarm. He hasn’t planned for this. It’s not like there’s any reason to protect Amos, he could easily tell a version of that day without mentioning his boner and make it perfectly believable, but the story doesn’t rise to his lips. “I already told you what happened,” he forces out.

Holden exhales. “I don’t understand why you’re lying about that or what’s going on between you two, but if it escalates anymore, I’m worried you’re going to get seriously hurt.”

“We had an argument,” Alex says after some time. “It— I didn’t think it was a big deal and I don’t know why he’s doing this. But the bruise isn’t from that.” It’s all technically the truth, or at least a version of it.

Holden gives him a look like he doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t push any further.

**Author's Note:**

> Mildly Dubious Consent Explanation: Amos hurts Alex without his explicit consent knowing that it turns him on. Alex never objects to anything, and there is more in depth kink negotiation in the second chapter which leads to explicitly consensual sex.
> 
> The second part is about 80% written, so it should be up soon!


End file.
